There has been another rash of celebrity deaths with the usual over the top mourning. I get it, I really do. And I have explained before that I have a hard time getting there because the very thing that makes someone like Prince important to me is still here - the art he created.
I've also said that when the day comes that Steve Martin dies I will probably cry. So what the fuck do I know?
I will say that when I heard that Michelle McNamara died my heart hurt for her husband. Patton Oswalt always makes me laugh. He reminds me that rambling comedians can be funnier than the standard set-up/punchline type they try to force us all to be. He has been a part of my journey. Were he to die I would be sad, sure, in some abstract way.
But, reading about him losing his wife is different.
It is not difficult to imagine what he must feel right now. I never want to find out if I would have the courage to survive what he is going through, but if I look at TGB long enough I can definitely imagine what he feels. Frankly, it is too much.
Somewhere in LA there is a man waking up without his wife. He can still smell her on the pillows. Maybe he piled the kids into the bed with him and they all cried themselves to sleep. His funny is broken and that is the one thing he has always had to fall back on. He's lost, rudderless, heartbroken.
My heart hurts for him in a very real way.
But then, I think, he has been blessed to have a woman who has loved the shit out of him. Even if just for a seemingly short time, he has been loved to the moon and back. How cool is that?
And maybe, one day, when the haze begins to clear and the numbness gives way to feeling again, he'll remember that.
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